Reverberations
by Iodame
Summary: Dean Winchester only moved back to KU to help pay for Sam's law degree. What he wasn't expecting was to find that Sam had made a few new friends since he'd last visited. And one in particular caught his attention: a certain awkward bartender/law student with insane eyes and a habit of staring. Destiel college AU - Mechanic!Dean, Bartender/Student!Cas, with slight Sabriel in the mix
1. Chapter 1

Castiel was pissed.

He generally tolerated Gabriel's silly tricks, his midnight pranks, his inappropriate comments – he did it for the sake of Sam, who truly disserved better, but hey – it wasn't his place – however it didn't stop Castiel from remaining pissed at a certain short, brown-haired prankster who was currently going to get beaten into the ground.

Castiel didn't usually let his anger show, it was a part of him he liked to keep close; when someone was angry it was as if they were drunk – who knew what they would say or who they would hurt. It was, unfortunately, something Castiel knew too well. It only took a few words spoken on a short temper so set off all hell while growing up. His brothers never needed much to start a fight, and Castiel was never one to feed the fire.

Regardless, he was about to have some rather _particular_ words with Gabriel on his latest theft. It was bad enough that all week Castiel had been stressing over the upcoming final on Bankruptcy Law (and honestly why did every country have to have different procedures it was tiresome and unpredictable), but not only that, Gabriel chose that week to be even more of a dick than usual, resulting in several of Castiel's books going missing, being locked out of their apartment, and a horrendously barren kitchen due to of Gabriel's latest "experiments" in cooking. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and sharing a genetic code was _not_ going to stop the blood from flowing this time.

Castiel stormed into the pathetic excuse for a living room their tiny apartment contained, spotting Gabriel lounging on the couch flipping through their small selection of channels, he stood directly between Gabriel and his television, with his arms crossed over his chest and a stern expression.

"What? I swear I did nothing this time, and if this is about the peanut butter, I promise I can clean that up!"

Castiel sighed. Whatever Gabriel did with the peanut butter, he didn't want to know.

"That, while horrid, is not what I mean," Castiel moved forward, leaning down over Gabriel and trying to look as threatening as possible,

"What I'm talking about is my brand new C&C Collier Pamphlet! It was the only copy left anywhere on campus, and you know how much ass kissing I had to do to lift one off of Crowley. Now I need it in my hands before you burn it!"

Gabriel sat up, meeting Castiel's gaze with enough nerve that he knew his brother wasn't lying when he practically shouted, "Hey! I did nothing of the sort! You know I would absolutely never interfere with your school work!"

Here Gabriel rested his body across the couch armrest and threw a dramatic hand over his face, looking like an innocent virgin sacrifice - which Castiel knew was not the case - and his display, while cinematic, rang true enough to Castiel that he felt his blood simmer down, quickly being replaced by panic – if he didn't get that book back in perfect condition, Crowley was going to skin him and wear him like a hide as an adornment to one of his fancy Armani suit.

"Besides my fretful little brother," Gabriel continued, rising from his position to grin at Castiel, "I'm sure you didn't mind getting to kiss a little ass for that book. It must've done you some good, for all the non-action you get. I mean really you should –"

"Alright Gabriel," Castiel snapped, "your point has been registered, you may cease speaking now."

Gabriel tsked, "Touchy, touchy little bro."

Castiel's love life was his own business, but it definitely didn't stop Gabriel, and every other member of his family, from constantly inquiring about it.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, doubtless another quip on the tip of his tongue, but knowing Castiel's tone well enough to see that he was treading on fragile ground, he thankfully kept it to himself.

"You know, maybe Sam took it. He has the same classes as you for the most part and he was here earlier, uh," Gabriel looked at his brother, eyes shining and eyebrows raising so high he thought they were going to fall over his head, "well, you know. _Studying_."

Castiel groaned. Just what he needed, more mental images of his best friend and his bother doing – _don't even think about it_.

"Well I don't see why you two would be _studying_ in my room anyways, and if you are, don't tell me. Ever."

Gabriel laughed, standing up to saunter over and coil an arm around Castiel's shoulders, "You know we do actual studying sometimes, and he may have asked for the book, I don't really remember, but you should check with him. Also, while you're over, tell him I enjoyed our time together and that my grade has been improving greatly since our sessions started!"

Castiel huffed in disgust, throwing Gabriel's arm off as the man twirled away.

The knot of anxiety beginning to subside, Castiel sighed, grabbed his keys and slipped his old sneakers on, before hurriedly leaving the house. He realized too late that he was ill-equipped for the harsh Kansas winter in his simple t-shirt and jeans, but it couldn't be helped, it was only a short drive to Sam's after all.

Castiel drove quickly, the longer that book was out of his possession, the more likely it was destroyed or sitting ruined in a grain silo. Arriving at Sam's took all of three minutes at the rate Castiel was going, and as he slid out of the car, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window.

_Insane_ was the first word to come to mind.

His red cheeks were beginning to numb his face as he considered his reflection. With his ripped-at-the-collar t-shirt that showed more skin than was comfortable for this time of year and wind-beaten hair, it looked like he just rolled out of bed after sleeping for a year. Which really wasn't too inaccurate.

Well it couldn't be helped, and Sam had seen worse from him.

He jogged up the driveway where a shiny, old style, Chevy black car was parked – strange, especially considering Sam didn't drive, instead frequently riding his bike or receiving rides from Gabriel – but perhaps he had a change of heart.

Castiel knocked on the door, shivering as a particularly cold gust of wind flew by. He knocked again, much faster and louder this time, hoping that Sam would answer soon before he froze to death.

The doorknob turned, and as it opened, Castiel huffed in relief,

"Goddamn it Sam, you know that I'm freezing my ass out – " his words stopped in his mouth and Castiel halted where he stood.

Standing before him was someone who was _definitely_ not Sam. Standing before him was what looked like a compilation of every wet dream he'd ever had, and then some. Castiel glanced over the stranger's face, the crazy green eyes, the freckles across the bridge of his nose, the radiating heat, already making Castiel's insides turn over just by looking at the man, and when the fucker opened his mouth to speak, the words were lost on him as he stared at the man's pink lips, wondering what would happen if he slammed this man against the wall and started sucking on every available surface of him.

Castiel shook himself out of his fantasy before he acted unaccordingly, long enough to hear the man say, "– and Sammy has told me a lot about you."

_Holy shit, that voice!_

Castiel found himself once again not paying attention to what the man was saying, rather choosing to listen to the faint southern drawl in that voice that was going to be present in his mind later that night; wondering what he would say and what the sexy accent would sound like late at night after being fucked. His head swam with the possibilities.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder and heard someone snapping in front of his face as he resurfaced once again from his overactive imagination. The man was closer now, and Castiel could smell leather and engine oil on him, making his slight arousal marginally worse, when Sam's head popped up behind green-eye's shoulder, making a face and muttering, "Quit scaring him, come on Dean."

_Dean_. That name registered faintly, _Sam's brother_!

His brother . . . Castiel for the life of him could not remember if the man was single or not. Sam pulled Castiel inside where it was warmer, but Castiel still found that, compared to the radiating heat from Dean, the house was chilly.

"You look like hell, did you run here?" Sam asked as the three moved to the kitchen where Sam began to heat water for coffee.

"No," Castiel began, managing to not glance again at Dean, "I drove, but I believe I was not entirely prepared for the cold."

"No shit." Dean quipped, sitting on a stool, arms crossed, regarding him thoughtfully – _I must look like a mess_ – Castiel attempted to straighten his hair but only managed to make it stick up at a slightly different angle. Dean chuckled and continued, "Do you even know what Kansas winters are like? I mean damn, just a shirt? And a ripped one at that."

Dean eyed Castiel's torn shirt, eyes lingering on his exposed collarbone, not that Castiel was paying any close attention _at all_ to where Dean's eyes were roaming.

"I mean Sam tells me you've been going to school here for years, I can't imagine you still don't know how the winter works."

Castiel's eyes narrowed, unsure whether Dean was joking or actually intending to be mean, but an amused laugh from Sam reassured him.

"Dean, be nice. So what do you need? I assume it must be important if you didn't even bother getting dressed?"

"Yes, I'm here on urgent business. I need to know where my copy of C&C Collier went, it has disappeared and I nearly killed my brother this morning when I couldn't locate it, did you take it?"

The water heated and Sam handed Castiel a cup, looking slightly guilty.

"Oh. Right, sorry about that, but yeah I do have it, when I was over before, you know, -" Castiel held up a hand, shaking his head while he let out and exasperated sigh, "I know, studying. But you have the book? It is all that is important right now, Crowley would murder me if I lost it."

Dean laughed, "Aw, I'm sure Sammy wouldn't mind protecting you! He wasn't born a giant for no reason!" He winked as Sam ran a hand through his hair, giving Dean a grimace, "I really wish you would stop calling me Sammy, we're not twelve anymore."

"Oh apologies Samantha, I'll do better in the future!" Dean grinned at Sam's sputtering and glanced at Castiel – holy shit did his grin transform his face into something hot, Castiel found himself once again dropping into a fantasy of heated moans and strong hands, before stopping himself – he needed to focus.

"You know he's practically a girl anyways, right?" Dean's eyes crinkled again as Sam choked out, "I think I'll get you that book back, one minute."

Sam left the kitchen to retrieve the stolen item, leaving Castiel alone in a room with Dean Winchester.

Dean shook his head, standing up to stretch his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt rising just enough to show the waist band of his low slung jeans and Castiel was not looking but he swore he could see abs on the man.

_Fuck._

He could not have a thing for Sam's brother. He just couldn't. It would be too strange. Wouldn't it? And he didn't even know if the man was gay for god's sake, what right did he have to assume that he would have a chance with someone like Dean? Look at him!

Castiel's musings were interrupted by a sudden invasion of his personal space, courtesy of Dean and his deep, knowing eyes.

"You know," Dean whispered, his breath brushing over Castiel's face, making his heart beat faster and his eyes widen, "you actually don't seem all that bad." Castiel though his heart was going to stop completely. Or beat directly out of his ribcage. One or the other.

He knew Dean was a flirt, Sam had said as much, but he also had never said anything about him being interested in men; maybe he didn't know?

Dean leaned even closer, backing Castiel against the table in the small kitchen. All the blood rushed from Castiel's face and relocated into somewhere much more incriminating.

"Just know that if you fuck up, the name 'Winchester' isn't just a title." Dean leaned his head to Castiel's ear, voice dropping an octave, "I've been hunting for years and believe me when I say I _know_ how to use a gun."

Castiel shivered, barely managing to suppress a muttered, "I'll bet you do." His efforts earned him a confused look from Dean before he retreated, smiling over his shoulder as Sam stomped into the room, oblivious as Dean was about Castiel's red face and slightly aroused state courtesy of the incalculable tease standing in front of him.

"Sorry it took so long, but I found it and it's perfectly fine." Sam handed the red book to him, and Castiel's relief was obvious as he took the book and cradled it to his chest, glancing between Sam and Dean before stammering, "Ok, uh thanks Sam, I guess I'll, um," he looked at Dean and quickly glanced away again after seeing the slightly feral expression on his face, the words _I know how to use a gun_ bouncing around in his mind doing things to him that it really shouldn't, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

Sam laughed as Castiel made his way to the door, and he was almost free from the stifling aura of Dean when suddenly, the man was there again, pressing against Castiel briefly to reach the door and open it for him, the cold air making it slightly easier to breath around him.

Dean eyed Castiel up and down once again, licked his lips and said, "Well it was nice meeting you."

"Uh, you too, I guess." Castiel could swear he heard Dean's chuckle all along the drive to his apartment.

_What the fuck just happened._

* * *

Dean smirked as he closed the door.

Just like his baby brother to bag the hottest guy on campus. But not exactly fair for him, now was it?

He sauntered back into the kitchen thinking about that soft hair and deep growls when Sam looked up and gave him a knowing smile, "Dean, I think you two get along well. You could practically bottle the tension in the room."

He laughed, "Well, it seems Gabe and I work well together."

Sam shot him a surprised look, "Dean, that wasn't Gabriel. That was his brother, Castiel."

Dean's jaw went slack and his mind blanked for an instant.

"Castiel?" He hesitated.

"Yeah, Gabe is much shorter and has lighter hair." Sam walked out of the kitchen leaving Dean to his thoughts.

_The brother._

_Not Sam's boyfriend._

_Huh._


	2. Chapter 2

It was Saturday night and Dean didn't feel like sitting around the house anymore. There was only so much lying around he could take, and he had spent nearly all of yesterday traveling; Dean needed a night out.

"I'm telling you Sammy, if you study any harder, your head might fall off."

Dean poked at Sam's head as he leaned over his shoulder to take a closer look at the textbook that had been demanding all of Sam's attention and time since he'd been back. It had small print and looked rather boring, so Dean reached over and slammed the book shut.

"Dean! Come on man, not all of us can just blow off our work whenever we feel like it."

Dean smirked, swiping the book from Sam and holding it close, "No you come on Sammy, you're going to a bar with me. It isn't healthy how hard you work."

Sam rolled his eyes at that as Dean continued, "What do they call them? Study breaks? You need one."

Sam lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, throwing a guilty glance at the other papers thrown across the table, "I suppose you're right, I could go for a drink. But only for a few hours alright? I can't afford to spend a whole day hung over just for one night of fun."

Dean grinned, accepting victory, and retreated into his room to dig out the only clean pair of jeans he had – _maybe I can get Sam to do my laundry for me_ – he thought as he slid them on. They were a bit tighter that what he usually wore, and they were a much darker shade of denim, but they would have to do. After slipping on an old shirt, Dean returned to the living room where Sam was waiting.

Refusing to walk or take the damn bus, Dean drove with Sam to one of the few bars he remembered in Lawrence. It wasn't too fancy of a place, but it was fully stocked, and the food wasn't half bad.

In his experience, it was the best place for picking up strangers who were just looking for a night of fun, but tonight, he had to remind himself, he was here for Sam.

Outside, the bar looked only slightly busy, they would still be able to get a table easily, and once inside, they were seated promptly. As Dean looked over the once familiar menu, he asked about Sam's life and school.

"It's really great Dean. You know to be able to study properly, Dad never really liked it but I think it's something that I'll be able to help people with."

Dean smirked, "Right, a lawyer? Helping people isn't exactly what I see as a lawyer thing. Are you going to turn into one of those bureaucrat pinheads too? Should I be worried? Because I'm sure you have enough evidence on the shit I've pulled to put me in jail for at least a few years."

Sam laughed as the waitress walked over to take their orders,

"Double cheeseburger, everything on it" Dean stated without needing much consideration – there wasn't a lot more that was any quality in this place, other than the drinks.

"Salad Rolls with half on, and a glass of water"  
It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes at Sam, faking a scandalized pout, "Still eating rabbit food Sammy? How do you get so tall on that stuff anyways?"

"Well," Sam looked slightly annoyed at Dean's words, "I kind of want to live past my thirties, if you know what I mean."  
Dean gave a small chuckle at that, failing to think of a good enough response, instead resorting to standing up and declaring that he was going to the bar to pick up some drinks.

Sam thew another bitchface his brother's way before asking Dean to get him whatever was on tap.

He walked up to the bar, which was relatively empty, but hardly surprising given that it was only a Thursday night.

The bartender's back was turned, and Dean had a good view of the guy's profile –_nice ass _– he thought, preparing a grin for the other man. Just because he was here with his brother didn't mean he couldn't lay the groundwork for some future action.

The bartender turned slightly and mumbled apologetically, "I will be right with you," before turning back around to finish another customer's bill.

_Shit I know that voice._

As the other man turned around, Dean took in the same hair, eyes, and rigid posture of the man he met the day before.

"Cas?"

He looked curiously at the him: his hair was significantly more tampered down now than it was before, but it still held the wildness that made Dean want to rub a hand through it, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked, and the clothing was very different.

Rather than the loose shirt and ill-fitting pants he was in before, Cas was now wearing tight black jeans with a deep blue button down shirt that was opened at the collar; the shirt stuck to his sides, revealing strong shoulders and a near perfect V down to his hips.

It was obviously meant to attract attention to his body, and damn did Cas know how to dress to his strengths.

"D-Dean, uh," Cas stuttered, once again acting the blushing virgin, something Dean found horribly funny. But at the same time he felt bad for the man's seemingly constant state of shock at the world.

Cas fell silent, instead looking at Dean with wide eyes that felt like they saw too much, and Dean flashed another grin, "I didn't know you were a bartender, does that mean you can get me some free booze?"

When Cas didn't respond Dean leaned across the bar so he was much closer, "I think I'll need you and your pretty ass to make me something to drink now."

This appeared to shock Cas out of his staring. Blushing, he shook himself and seemed to remember that he had a job to do, "Of course Dean, you just caught me off guard is all. What can I do for you?"

_All sorts of things, none of which involve that damn shirt of yours._ "I need two of whatever's on tap tonight."

Cas seemed to deflate slightly before giving Dean a practiced smile, "Of course, one minute."

Once again Cas turned and Dean was greeted with a better view of how well the man filled out his clothes before he turned again, this time holding two glasses full of amber liquid.

"I hope you have a nice night, Dean."

"You know I'm only here with Sam, if we're still around when you're off work, you should come join us."

The change in the man was instant; his posture straightened and his eyes gave a renewed interest, "I would like that, thank you."

As he turned, Dean caught the slightest quirk of the mouth on Cas' face – if he hadn't been paying special attention to his lips he would've missed it – but it was a genuine smile, or as much as he would get from someone as stoic as Cas.

It made his heart stutter slightly against his ribcage.

Dean returned to the table trying to get his thudding heart rate down – since when did it start beating so quickly? He sat down across from Sam, and with a slightly forcedly casual tone asked, "Did you know Cas is a bartender here?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Oh? That's strange, he doesn't usually work on Thursdays."

Dean nodded, taking a drink from his beer, "When does he usually work?"

A small smile appeared on his brother's face, and another knowing glint in his eyes put Dean on the defensive, "Why do you want to know Dean? Plan on following him home, maybe?"

"Ha ha. Hilarious Sammy, I was just making conversations. What else is there to talk about? I do _not_ want to hear anymore about Gabriel." Dean gave a dramatic shudder.

"Well don't ask about Gabriel anymore then, and Castiel works Friday through Monday nights, normally. He must be filling in for someone tonight."

Dean nodded, trying to look casual as he glanced quickly over to the bar and saw that Cas was leaning against the edge of the it and staring directly back at him with undisguised interest.

The flutter in Dean's stomach was unexpected, especially considering he was no innocent man in this sort of field, but it was interesting, the effect that man's eyes had on his body. It felt like he was staring directly into his mind, which was not a place Cas would appreciate at the moment.

O_r maybe he would._

Dean shook aside the thought, instead focusing on Sam.

They talked for a while, Sam went on about his various classes, especially one about Bankruptcy Law one that was giving him trouble because the professor, Crowley, was a known asshole and notorious for being nice an accommodating one day, then horrible the next.

Throughout their dinner, Dean tried to avoid glancing at the bar too much, but it wasn't easy, especially considering that every time he did look over, he would unfailingly find Cas staring back at him, without embarrassment or any sign of looking away.

After a while, the atmosphere of the bar started to change and simmer down, there were fewer people, and some of the waitresses began cleaning up. Sam looked around frowning, "You know maybe we should head out, it looks like they're closing."

At that moment a low voice sounded from the bar, "Sam, Dean, you can come up to the bar, last call isn't technically for another half hour."

Dean looked at Sam who shrugged, and the brothers moved to two of the many empty stools in the bar. Cas cleaned the wood grain in front of them before pouring two more beers.

"How is the paper for Corporate and Securities going?"

The question obviously being directed at Sam, Dean kept silent for some moments while the two carried out a conversation in what could have been in a foreign language as far as he was concerned.

Slightly annoyed Dean interjected, "Can we speak in English for a bit? I don't think I could follow this nerd talk even if I were fully sober."  
Cas gave him a slight smile, "Dean, I am fairly sure that you would manage perfectly fine, even if drunk. Your mental capacities seem to be similar to your brother's."

"Huh, you flirtin' with me Cas?" Dean winked at Cas' sudden reddening, "'Cause you really know how to make a guy feel special."

Sam rolled his eyes, "You know you two should take it somewhere else, at least then I wouldn't have to hear Dean's horrible excuse of a pick up attempt, and really -" but Sam was cut off by a shrill ring from Cas' pocket.

Puling out his phone, Cas looked at a text message before sighing.

"What's up?"

Looking slightly irritated Cas replied, "It seems my brother has misplaced his keys. Again. And he needs to get inside the house because, and I quote, it is 'too fucking cold to sleep in the car.'"

Cas let out another long-suffering sigh, the rather dramatic noise coming from such a normally reserved man making Dean laugh to himself.

Sam lifted his head, "I could pick him up if you need, you're still working and I wouldn't want him to freeze."

Cas looked doubtful, "I don't want to impose on your evening," but Sam was already beginning to stand, "It's no trouble, he's my boyfriend too. I can take the keys and Dean can drive you home, easy!"

Cas' eyes widened, "I don't think I could ask that of Dean, I mean –"

"Nah, it's fine!" Dean interjected, "Let Sam take care of the shorty for today."

Hesitating slightly, Cas handed the set of keys over to Sam who took them and left the bar, throwing a quick goodbye over his shoulder.

Dean glanced back over to Cas, the guy looked overworked.

"You look like you work too hard. I have an idea," Cas regarded him suspiciously, as Dean continued, "shots, I'm buying!"

"Dean I can't drink, I'm working"

He scoffed, "Please, there's no one in here, and we have some time to kill, might as well get paid to drink right?"

The man looked around, not doubt noticing that there was no one else in the bar, and agreed.

He pulled out several glasses from behind the counter, and pulling out the vodka, he poured it while Dean could only sit there and stare at Cas' hands. They were very nice hands.

_Wow I must be really out of it to be finding hands erotic._

But Dean continued to watch as the long fingers gripped the neck of the bottle and held firm as they finished pouring.

Both men grabbed a glass and downed the harsh liquid, cringing slightly at the taste.

"So Cas," Dean began, trying to forget the sight of those fingers, "why law?"

It sounded like a lame pick-up line, but it was the best he could come up with.

Luckily Cas only gave a small laugh and thought for a moment before replying, "Uh, money? I don't know, I mostly did it because my father was very interested in the idea." Cas gave a vague gesture with his hand, "Judgment and all that."

He sighed, "Or at least he seemed to be, he wasn't around much."

"You go through the hell of law school just for you own dad? That seems messed up."

Cas shrugged his shoulder and poured another glass, "Well it started that way, but it turned out I actually liked it quite a bit. It's interesting to know how many ways to fuck with the system."

Dean gave a startled laugh at his uncharacteristic swear – _who would've thought he had a sense of humor_ – "I can understand that, our dad wasn't around much either, and I had to mostly raise Sam on my own. Wasn't easy, especially considering that I don't know what I'm doin'."

Cas tilted his head slightly in a way that made him look like a damn owl, "For what it's worth I think you raised Sam very well. He admires you a lot."

Dean gave a nervous laugh, he wasn't used to people noticing how much he did for Sam, in fact he usually preferred they didn't know. Cas, somehow, was different.

"Why did you move back out here?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly on the bar top, "Well, Sam was running out of money, and it was getting to be too expensive. He can't take loans without getting crushing debt, so I moved out here to help."

Cas pressed tentative fingers against Deans hand, "It is amazing that you would do that for your brother. I admire your loyalty. What is your work?"

Den felt a slight tingle where Cas' fingers had been when he moved away, "Uh, we have a family friend out here, Bobby, and he owns an autoshop, so he hooked me up there. It was lucky really, I didn't think he was still open."

Cas nodded, "I understand, work is important. Speaking as someone who both works and goes to school, I can say that Sam is very luck to have you."

Once again Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. If Cas was going to keep staring at him and saying things like that, he thought he was going to burst.

Luckily, Cas looked away – Dean breathed a sigh of relief – and looked at the clock.

"It seems my shift is over. I'll check out. If you want I can still take the bus back to my house, it really is no trouble."

Dean threw back his head and laughed, "Cas, don't be an idiot, I'll drive you, I'm not so drunk that I'd make you take the _bus_!"

Cas looked grateful as he disappeared into the back.

Dean shook his head, this was by far the strangest evening he's had in a while, and if he was reading the signs correctly, there was a rather high chance he was going to get lucky tonight.

The staring, the slight touches, the embarrassment when Dean flirted, oh yeah, he had this, easily. Cas may be shy, but he wasn't subtle.

When he reemerged, Dean led him to his car. Cas stopped outside to admire it, "Isn't she beautiful? I rebuilt her from the ground up, she's my baby"

Cas gave a little half smile, "She is very, um, sleek?"

Dean chuckled, "Don't know much about cars do you?" When Cas shook his head Dean had an idea, "You know, I could show you a thing or two sometime, show you what's under the hood and all so if you ever get stuck without a mechanic you'd know what to do."

Nothing, in Dean's not so limited experience, got someone going the way his baby could. One minute listening to her engine growling and they were in his lap purring into his mouth, like magic.

Cas simply nodded his head and gave that maddening smile – the one that looked like he held a valuable secret about Dean.

Cas crawled into the passenger's seat as Dean started the engine, the familiar sound making Dean feel more comfortable by the minute.

As they drove, Dean was conscious of a steadily increasing tension in the air between them. It was slow, but very present, and he could practically feel every time Cas moved or even breathed. Every word out of Cas' mouth as he gave directions sent a tremor through the air that made Dean want to groan.

After a short ride, they arrived and Dean got out of the Impala and walked to the passenger's side.

"Thank you, Dean." Cas mumbled as he stood up from the car. He glanced up at Dean before looking away quickly,

_Well, now or never I guess._

Dean crowded up against Cas, trapping him between the Impala, the door, and his body. He dipped his head to move closer to Cas' face,

"And thank you, Cas."

He was close enough that he could feel Cas' chest rising and falling rapidly. Taking that as a good sign, Dean pressed up against him until he could feel their bodies touch slightly, and he leaned in to put his mouth near Cas' ear, almost the same way he did in the kitchen previously, whispering, "I think it was a very good evening." They were close enough to kiss; Dean could smell the cologne Cas was wearing, and it was enough to set his nerves on fire.

He heard a small noise from Cas, and as Dean pulled away slightly, he looked at Cas' face and saw his eyes wide, "Dean, um, what are you doing?" Cas backed away a fraction of an inch.

_Shit. _Had he misread this?

Dean quickly stepped back from Cas, feeling significantly colder without his body pressed against his, "Sorry Cas." He must've made a mistake if the look of relief on Cas' face was any indication.

And when Cas didn't say anything, Dean walked quickly around the Impala, putting the maximum distance between the two of them, "But I guess I'll see you around."

Cas still looked slightly frightened, and Dean felt his cheeks redden at his constant gaze before the man murmured, "Thank you, Dean."

He nodded and practically threw himself into the Impala, starting her up and driving off, leaving a confused and slightly aroused Cas in his driveway.

* * *

_Shit._ Dean thought again. It was just his luck then that the unbelievably hot guy, who just so happened to be really nice and interesting on top of that, simply wasn't gay.

It was the only explanation Dean could think of, and he mentally cursed himself. He was so sure about the signals Cas had been sending all night, but he had pulled away, clearly disinterested and confused.

So Cas wasn't into him, no big deal. Dean was an adult, he could deal with rejection, just as long as the other man never mentioned their near-kiss, he'd be fine.

Dean pulled into the driveway of Sam's and his apartment, sighing at how late it was. He needed the sleep if he was going to work the morning shift at the garage as he promised Bobby. Dean quickly stripped off his shirt and jeans before flopping into bed and running his hands over his face.

It just was not his night, but at least he got to hang out with Sammy for a while, and got some good drinks out of it.

Dean closed his eyes in an attempt to grasp the sleep he desperately needed, but every time he did so his vision filled with flashes of blue eyes, and lips that were slightly too red from being chewed on, and a deep voice that left a rumble in his chest and sounded like it was made for sex.

Dean found his hand slipping over his chest lightly, tracing nonsense patters, and lowering over every swipe until it reached the waistband of his boxers. He began massaging through the fabric without ever touching himself exactly where he needed it – teasing it until he gave in, pushing his boxers down and moving his hand to slide a loose grip over his dick.

Thoughts of Cas came to him with no effort, unbidden. The things those hands did to him . . . he would bet a lot of money that Cas was good with his hands, especially giving his ability to make drinks. His cock, already half aroused from his little run in with Cas earlier, quickly became fully hard at the thought of those hands, thinking of Cas made everything feel sharper, more heightened.

Dean gave a low, strangled moan into the air as he increased the pace of his hand, remembering the way Cas would bite his lip when concentrating on remembering something, and how the slow drag of his lower lips through his teeth made Dean want to lean over the bar and kiss them.

_Oh, the things I want to do to your mouth._

He felt beads of pre-come as he threw his head back against his pillow, straining, imagining Cas above him. His hand not being enough, Dean imagined it was Cas' hands rubbing up against him instead of his own, he thought of those lips bending down to brush his nipples, and Dean could practically hear that voice growling in his ear. Dean let out a low groan as he thumbed the slit, trying to stifle another moan at how good it was.

He felt his orgasm building, the though of Cas making the lust in him flare up with unexpected strength. The heat grew in his lower stomach, spreading until his thighs and arms were tingling and felt on fire; he couldn't control the throaty moans that sounded too loud to his ears.

_I wonder what _Cas_ sounds like when he jacks off._

Dean's breath was coming shorter and his hips were thrusting upwards, back arching, as he wondered if Cas would give off a short breathy noise or if he would be the kind to growl out a long moan.

Dean twisted his wrist slightly at the thought, letting out a grunt in tandem to what he imagined Cas would do, and it was the last he could take before the building heat reached its climax and he felt hot spurts over his abdomen and hand, making his body go limp and his mind black out.

Coming down from the high was like trying to walk after falling off a cliff – his legs felt weak and his mind dizzy. It felt good to allow some sort of release with the man, but Dean also felt slightly guilty.

_Jerking off to thoughts of the straight friend of your brother._

_But it doesn't hurt anyone if I keep it to myself, right?_

He thought, figuring that if he couldn't have Cas in reality, the fantasy was a good enough substitute.

It wouldn't be a problem for much longer, Dean just needed to get laid, it had been far too long and he was not himself.

He cleaned up with the tissues beside his bed, and then rolled over in his bed.

The next morning when he woke, Dean felt rested for the first time since he moved back to Lawrence.


	3. Chapter 3

6:30 in the morning was excessively early as far as Castiel was concerned.

Too early, and too damn cold. Something he really should have considered before moving to Kansas, but how was he supposed to know?

He was currently leaning against his brother's car trying to regain some feeling in his already numb hands.

Gabriel's head poked out of the driver's window, sounding decidedly annoyed, he mumbled, "Five years and it's never had any trouble, but on the coldest day of the year it decides to break."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, "Gabriel, I hardly think the car is to blame for your lack of maintenance."

Shooting his brother an annoyed look, Gabriel got out of the car and trudged back inside their apartment. Moving to follow him, Castiel stopped for a minute to look over the smoking engine, but all he could tell was that something had exploded; information not helpful when trying to fix it. He sighed and walked through the door, relishing the warmth, and finding Gabriel on the couch.

"You know that you still have to attend class. We'll take the bus."

He jutted his lip out in a strange semblance of a pout, "Cassie, I'm not taking the bus! It'll take at least an hour, and I don't have that kind of time!"

Gabriel slumped lower into the couch as Castiel looked around, "Do you have any better ideas then?"

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Gabriel suddenly perked up. Eyes shining, and a fairly devious grin slowly spreading across his face – something Castile had learned from an early age was never a good thing for him – he stood.

"Actually, I think we do have a car!"

Castiel shot him a wary glance, "You know as well as I do that we do not, and no one would give us a ride on so short of notice, especially this early in the morning."

Gabriel's grin widened, "Yes, we do know someone. All it'll take is a short phone call, some pretty words, batting eyelashes, and good ol' Dean will drive us over in a second!"

Castiel felt his eyes go wide and his limbs felt stiff, "I can't do that. I can't simply call him up and ask for –" Gabriel interrupted with a scoff, practically leaping towards Castiel to put his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"Nonsense! Sam was telling me all about when you first met him! From what he said, I think you two are wasting a colossal amount time by not fucking right now."

Castiel face turned white and he stilled, "Gabriel, I don't know what Sam was seeing, but I do know that is not how it is between us. Besides Dean is not even interested in men, it's a wholly inappropriate suggestion."

His grin widened as he let go of Castiel's shoulders, "Well have I got some information for you. Sammy let slip that his brother swings both ways, so you have at least half a chance of bagging some ass, and we have more than half a chance of getting a ride!"

Surprised, Castiel paused as his brain attempted to take that information it. Dean was interested in men. Maybe there _was_ something to the weird events of the previous night.

Now was not the time, however, and he looked over to Gabriel, "I don't even have his number."

His brother rolled his eyes, "Call Sam, Dean will be with him. You are not making me take the bus!"

Castiel nodded, realizing that if they were ever going to make their respective classes, he was going to have to call the man.

His heart pounded in his chest as he thought of talking to Dean after what happened last night, and after the realization that he had a chance with the man.

_He almost kissed me._

No, no. Must not think that. It was not what happened anyways. Dean had been so close to his face, and it looked like he was leaning in, but he was not expressing interest in him, was he?

That night, when he turned around and saw Dean at the bar, right in front of him, with a smile that could make angels cry – Castiel almost passed out. And watching him as he walked away with the drinks was worse. Dean had been wearing _very_ tight clothing.

The drive to his house had been strangely tense, and when Castiel stepped out of the car to find Dean so close, he panicked. But the man pulled away, quickly driving off without a backwards glance, leaving Castiel with an odd sense of disappointment and abandonment. Obviously any attraction he thought he saw was not truly there – after all, Dean would have acted on it without trouble.

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when Gabriel snapped his fingers in front of his face and handed him the phone, which was already dialed, "Plan on doing this soon? I have to take some rather important assessments today if you don't mind."

He took the phone and listened to it ring twice before Sam picked up.

"Gabe? It's 6:45 shouldn't you be out of the house by now?"

"Sam. This is Castiel, Gabriel's car has, um, exploded. And we were wondering if Dean would mind giving us a ride. Only if he can of course, we could take the bus or walk if needed."

"NO BUS." Gabriel yelled, standing next to Castiel.

There was a chuckle, some shuffling on the other side of the line, then a cheerful, "Sure! I know he wouldn't mind! One minute I'll wake him."

"No! Sam you don't need to if he's asleep –" Sam cut him off quickly, assuring Castiel it was no trouble, and that Dean should learn to wake up this early anyways.

There was some banging and a faint call of "Dean!" before he heard Sam speak again.

"Dean! Wake up, Cas needs you to give him a lift."

More mumbling, and a gruff voice carried over the phone, "Give."

Castiel's heart stuttered slightly and he thought it best to sit down as Sam handed the phone to Dean.

"Cas?"

Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. The combination of poor phone quality and his just woken state made Dean's voice seem rough, like he spent the night moaning and – no he cannot think of that, Castiel has a reason for calling.

"Hello Dean. I'm sorry Sam woke you, it wasn't necessary, but Gabriel's car doesn't seem to be working and if it isn't too much trouble, we could really use a ride across campus."

Dean laughed slightly, making Castiel's stomach flip, but before he could reply, Gabriel – whom Castiel had until then forgotten about – yelled into the phone, "Dean if you drive us I promise I'll give you Castiel to fuck for a night!"

Castiel lunged at Gabriel, but the man kept shouting, "Dinner, empty apartment, clean sheets, the works!"

There was a slight choking sound from the phone, before a clipped, "On my way" stuttered out.

Had Dean's voice managed to get even deeper?

* * *

Not two minutes later, Dean's sleek car pulled into their driveway beside Gabriel's smoking junker. Gabriel ran out quickly, leaving Castiel to lock the door behind him, and sauntered over to the passenger's seat of the Impala.

"Oh no short stuff. Not going to happen." Dean quipped, "I am not having you riding shotgun and messing with my stuff, go sit in the back."

Gabriel looked slightly put out, "But I suppose Cassie get's primo seating?"

Dean scoffed and looked over to him, "Anyone's better than you, princess."

Looking between the two men, Castiel felt slightly uncomfortable as Dean gestured to the seat next to him, but he slid in, closing the car door gently.

"I suppose he _would_ like riding better." Gabriel mumbled, barely audible.

Castiel shot him a warning glance, and Dean if he noticed did not say anything, thankfully.

"Thank you for driving us," he murmured as the car left the curb.

Castiel looked over the man. He obviously just rolled out of bed, with his hair matted on the side he'd slept on and a loose shirt he probably threw on at random.

It would be interesting, Castiel thought, to see Dean like this often, barely awake, rough voice, sleepy smile, he wondered if the man slept shirtless, in loose fitting boxers that would slide off smoothly, easily, giving him effortless access to his body – Castiel stopped himself, for the second time that day, from imagining several rather inappropriate things Dean could be doing.

Lost in his musings he almost missed when Gabriel yelled for Dean to stop as they arrived at his building. He pulled to a stop next to the sidewalk, and put the car in park.

"Thanks Dean-o, see you later Cassie!" Gabriel tousled his brother's hair and jumped out, slamming the door behind him.

As Gabriel ran to his class, Dean smiled and turned towards Castiel, "What about you, where do you get off?"

_Anywhere you are_.

"A few streets over."

Shifting into gear, Dean drove away from Gabriel. As the car rolled along, Castiel was content to sit in silence, and apparently so was Dean. It wasn't awkward, which was a relief, but there was remained a sort of tension in the space between them that he couldn't calculate.

Nearing the library, Castiel indicated that Dean should stop, but as he was pulling up to the curb, Dean's eyes went wide and he suddenly jerked the car away from the sidewalk.

"What's wrong!?" Was something the matter with Dean? Or the car?

"Nothing." Dean paused, "Nothing at all." He drove further up the street before stopping. "Just someone I would rather not see right now."

Castiel, confused, glanced back to where they had been. There was a woman walking, tall, with dark, wavy hair – very pretty.

"Girlfriend troubles?" Castiel felt his heart sink – of course someone like Dean had a girlfriend. It probably took the man all of one day within coming back to find someone.

Dean gave an uncomfortable laugh, "No, not really. Ex-girlfriend troubles more like." He shook his head and continued,

"I'm not, you know, with anyone right now. It's a story some other time though, preferably a time with more liquor."

Castiel nodded and opened the door to the Impala. He turned to Dean to thank him, but the man held up a hand, "Yeah, I know, you're going to say thanks and apologize. Again. Don't worry about it, I'm happy to give you a lift anytime you need it."

Another bright smile emanated from Dean and it made Castiel's knees go weak, "I'll see you later."

Castiel nodded and stood back as Dean drove off.

He sighed.

Bi and single and not interested in Castiel. Dean was going to be the death of him.

* * *

That evening found Dean rubbing a hand over his face in a tired motion. He was beginning to feel the strain of working late hours everyday and not getting the enjoyment of spending the money. It was best for Sam, and he wouldn't trade it for anything, but sometimes it could be a real bitch to not get nights off.

He really needed to get laid.

Currently sitting on his couch, Dean was debating whether to cancel his plans with Sammy in lieu of some sleep. However, he hadn't seen Sam in what felt like weeks, despite sharing an apartment, so he felt obligated to spend his one night off with his baby brother.

Dean grabbed his phone and texted Sam.

"Where and when for food and beer?"

Within a few minutes, he received a reply, "Same place as last time at 6. Don't text again I'm in class!"

Hmph. Sam was probably taking excessive notes on a lecture that someone was taking a video of to be shared later; most likely he hardly even needed to be there. But that was Sam, in all his glory.

Dean grabbed his jacket and stepped outside into the cold. Locking the door behind him, it wasn't until he was turning the ignition when he realized that he was going to the bar where Cas worked.

Dean had been driving Cas and Gabe every morning for the past week, mostly because he needed to take Sam somewhere, so he might as well bring them. It was nice seeing Cas everyday, if weird at first. He wondered, on that first day when he rolled out of bed and grabbed the phone only to hear the sound of a voice that haunted his dreams, if it would be weird between them. He was worried Cas was going to mention anything about what he tried to do outside his place.

When he didn't, Dean assumed he was dropping it and they were going to carry on as friends, which honestly made him more relieved than he thought he should be.

He hadn't gone back to that bar during any of Cas' work hours though. Why torture himself when seeing the sleep–mussed hair version of Cas was already hard enough?

Unfortunately, Sam wanted to go, and it would be too hard to arrange for somewhere else in time. Besides, it was a Saturday night, literally the busiest time of week for bartenders, it was unlikely he would be able to even see Cas.

Dean arrived, parked his baby and walked into the dimly lit building. It was significantly more crowded than when he was previously there. Some music with a heavy beat playing in the background, but the majority of the noise came from the conversations of the customers – mostly college students looking to unwind before they spent all Sunday finishing work.

Dean smirked, glad he didn't have to deal with that shit anymore. He told the hostess he needed a spot for two, and was lead to a small booth-like table. Once seated he ordered a beer.

Waiting for the time being, Dean glanced around, looking for anyone he could possibly take home, and studiously ignoring the bar area. Unfortunately, the bar was where most of the people were crowded around, and when he looked over, he instantly found Cas.

Dressed in all black today, with an apron tied around his waist, the low light made his eyes stand out among the dark shadows, and somehow it made his skin _glow_.

Staring stupidly, unable to look away, Cas suddenly looked up from the customer he was serving and made eye contact with Dean. That small, maddening smile appeared on his mouth, but before Dean could wave, or even smile, a tan, blonde man materialized behind Cas.

The guy wrapped an arm around Cas' waist and swiveled him around so they were standing face to face, _pressed against each other_.

Dean's eyes went wide at the sight, and a hot flash of anger went through him. Castiel, completely embroiled with the man, turned a bright shade of red and laughed at something the guy said. He pushed him away before returning to make drinks for the girls at the bar, no doubt leaving the sight of Dean forgotten.

_Get it together, Dean_.

It was only obvious that Cas would have someone, after all it would explain why he had rejected Dean before. He had been fairly certain that Cas was gay, and now he knew for sure. He also knew that now he had no chance with him.

That blonde man looked like a major douche, but from the way he made Cas turn that sade of red, and the way he so easily coaxed that little laugh out of him, made him sure that they were together.

It was surprisingly disappointing. He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, because at that moment he heard a familiar, high pitched laugh.

_Well shit_.

Lisa was here.

He wished he could melt into the chair, she was a conversation he was not ready for. They had gone out for about a year – longer than Dean had ever been with someone before – but they had split – less than amicably.

Dean had been avoiding her ever since she came back, but there was no escape at this point, and when he saw her, he knew that his night was about to go downhill, real fast.

Why the hell did he get here so early? Sam didn't get out of class until 6.

Dean glanced at his watch, it read 5:45. Too early, and not nearly enough time to escape Lisa waving and sauntering over to his table where he sat alone.

If Dean were being truthful with himself, he would know why he grabbed a table about half an hour early – and it had absolutely nothing to do with the blue-eyed bartender he was _absolutely not looking at anymore because he was taken._

"Dean! Dean it's been ages how are you?!"

Lisa's voice carried over the evening crowd as she materialized by Dean's table, wide eyes happy and slightly glazed over. How much has she had to drink?

"Great, it's been good. You know, working, helping Sam with his college stuff."

Dean wasn't particularly into talking about his personal life, especially with someone like Lisa. He wasn't going to spill his guts just because of some history between them.

"You know, I probably shouldn't even be talking to you, Victor would be pissed," she covered her mouth as she was taken in a laughing fit, "But it was such a good opportunity, I mean a Saturday night, at a bar and the Dean Winchester doesn't have a date!"

He winced slightly at her words, and he thought he felt his face redden slightly. It wasn't that he hated being alone or single, it was just that he hated Lisa _seeing_ him alone and single. It also made it worse that she had already found someone.

"Well you know what I mean anyways."

Dean knew what she meant: that he should, by all rights have one guy and one girl on his arm by now and be having a good time, but tonight he was here for Sam. Not for finding a not-so-much-stranger with soft, dark hair and a smile that could light up a room and wide eyes that would crinkle and –

"Dean?" Lisa waved a hand in front of his face, "You still with me? I mean I know you took the break up hard, but isn't it time you moved on?"

She giggled, and Dean narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like Lisa to be so blunt.

He began to see where she why she had walked over here. Put enough alcohol in anyone and they start making an ass of themselves, like clockwork.

"Look, Lisa, I think you've had a bit too much, and you should really watch what you say."

She scoffed, "Please, I know we were, like, crazy good together, and it was hard for both of us, but you really need to get over what we were."

Dean began shifting uncomfortably in his seat, looking for an out – any out, anything at all to keep him from having to endure the awkward situation that was talking to an ex-girlfriend he used to consider spending the rest of his life with.

Yeah, he had a difficult time dealing with losing her, but at this point in his life, he felt nothing between them, and her presence didn't mean he couldn't go out and have fun without her, as she was implying. What right did she have to talk about his life as if she was still the center of it?

Dean felt his anger rise as Lisa began talking loudly about, something. He was too pissed to care at this point.

As she continued to talk loudly, Dean felt himself snap.

"You know there are lots of people out here, not just you? I mean lots of women and men around here that I could be with."

"Oh really?" Lisa did another infuriating giggle, "Then why are none of them flocking to you, wise one?"

"Well," Dean hesitated, "because I'm, uh, kind of, with someone now."

Biggest lie of the century, but hey, a guy could dream couldn't he? It was worse than he thought it would be, seeing Lisa for the first time after breaking up, and the lie sort of slipped out before he could filter it.

"Oh reeeaally?" Lisa's speech was getting more sporadic and slurred, "Well you know what I think, Dean? I think –"

But Dean never got to hear the rest of what Lisa thought about his fictional boyfriend, because at that moment, he felt two hands grip his shoulder from behind and glide down his chest while a rough, stubbed chin rubbed against his and a voice sexy as sin made a breathless noise in his ear, loud enough for Lisa to hear, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Practically a growl really.

One that held all sorts of suggestion in it and made Dean want to hear what it would sound like after a night of rough sex.

"Cas?!"

Dead did _not _squeak, not at all. Not even when Cas started to plant ghost kisses along the side of his neck and rub his hands up and down his chest. Dean could feel the sigh of breath that Cas was exhaling on the sensitive spot just below his ear, and the combination of his hands pressing against his torso lightly and the rough drag of 5 o'clock shadow on his neck was driving him absolutely fucking insane.

"Cas, I –"

A low 'tsk' from Cas once again to cut him off. Dean felt a slight pressure on his chest as Cas move to straddle him in one fluid motion.

_Agile bastard_.

The thought set off all sorts of visions of exactly how many ways he wanted to test Cas' flexibility, what Cas would sound like with Dean's hands around him, showing him all the ways someone could make him feel -

His thought process was suddenly derailed entirely as Cas, now positioned with legs on either sides of his hips, grabbed Dean's face with both hands, tilted his head to the side slightly, and slammed their mouths together.

He felt overwhelmed with the sudden sensation of having Cas pry his mouth open with his tongue and trace the roof of his mouth with little, teasing graces that left his head spinning. The guy practically assaulted his mouth, sucking on his tongue and stealing all his breath to the point that Dean thought he was going to pass out with the feeling.

It tasted like cheep beer and salt, and fucking incredible.

The whole thing happining too suddenly for him to react, Cas abruptly pulled away ever so slightly and Dean found himself chasing after that magic mouth of his. Cas didn't get far before murmuring, "At least _pretend _you're into this," before biting Dean's bottom lip.

Oh.

_Oh_...

Well you couldn't blame him for being a bit shell shocked. It wasn't easy keeping your composure with the subject of every fantasy for the past week sitting in your lap giving you the fuck-me-now-before-I-die type of kiss he was currently experiencing. He never dared to think about Cas like this – with eyes wide and red mouth parted slightly and slick, just inviting him to bite – never dared unless he was alone, with his head thrown back and one hand down his pants.

Well he wasn't going to let an opportunity like this pass him by, act first, ask questions later, that was Dean's motto.

Finally coming to his sense – or at least what was left of them – Dean gave as good as he had so far gotten with Cas. He met Cas' tongue and tasted every bit of that distracting mouth which had been plaguing his dreams.

Dean brought his hands up to cascade through Cas' hair, but as he moved, Cas grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms, pressing them to the back of the seat.

Moaning slightly at this display of power, Dean struggled half heartedly against the restraint, earning him a low grunt from Cas.

"Down." There was that growl again, sending blood reeling through his body straight to his dick.

Dean felt he might go mad if he didn't get to at least touch some part of Cas. His hands burned with the idea of getting to feel those shoulders or hands or _something_.

Fortunately he was saved from madness by the sudden movement of Cas' hips. Subtle enough to attract attention and yet not enough to actually _solve_ any of the problems Dean was facing, Cas started to ride him ever so slightly and Dean felt his erection grow and could physically feel when his mind left his body. Small movements circling around his hips, moving in time to the music made Dean pant.

Remembering enough about what was going on, Dean forced small, jerking thrusts forward in an attempt to get more friction between them, and when Cas realized what he was doing, He could feel him grin over his mouth. Apparently it wasn't enough for Cas either, because the man let one of Dean's hands go and instead snaked it under Dean's ass in order to pull his hips up into him.

Dean let out a surprised gasp that was swallowed by Cas, and he let a full body shudder when their dicks rubbed against each other, grinding through their jeans. The man was surprisingly strong, and the though opened so many possibilities for him.

_I'll bet he's good at this pressed against a wall._

Goddamn Cas for his fucking lips and tongue still mercilessly exploring Dean's mouth and stealing any air, making his mind reel, and fuck Cas for those hips that returned to moving in small circles, now just barely touching his dick enough to elicit a reaction before moving away and his damn chest rubbing against Dean's and making his heart race.

He dimly heard Lisa clear her throat and say something, but she left and Dean could feel his focus shifting entirely onto getting Cas out of those jeans, people around them be damned! All he had to do was get his other hand free to push Cas down and get rid of his building sexual frustration.

But as Lisa left, Cas suddenly broke the kiss, let go of Deans hands, and stared into his eyes.

Damn were they some nice eyes.

Cas slid off Dean's lap, his hand straying and pressing slightly against Dean's dick enough to cause him to jerkingly thrust up. Cas avoided looking at Dean, straightening his mussed tie and attempting to re-comb his hair into something a bit more presentable.

"Sorry," Cas said, looking bashful – _strange look on a guy who may have just given the hottest full body kiss of my life_ – "but she really shouldn't say things like that. And you seemed like you needed . . ." he gestured vaguely with his hand.

The blush that rose on Cas' cheeks had to be one of the hottest things Dean had ever seen, and it was all he could do to not force Cas back onto his lap and finish what he started.

Of course, before Dean could act on any of his urges, and fuck if he was going to let this opportunity end so easily, he had a raging hard on that needed attention, Sam walked through the door to the bar, spotted Dean immediately, and walked over.

_Fuck fuck fuck Sammy!_ _Why now?_

Glancing between his brother and Cas, Sam asked, "You guys okay? Anything happen?"

Sam snickered as Dean cleared his throat and Cas blushed even further and mumbled, "I'll be going back to work now," and returned to his place behind the bar.

Cas studiously ignored Dean for the rest of the night.

But _damn._ Cas felt too far gone to think properly, and he may have screwed up more drinks than usual, but who had to know? He had ridden Dean Winchester, and he wanted more.


	4. Chapter 4

_/* _

_* This chapter takes place directly after the previous one_

_*/_

* * *

Castiel was trembling.

His head was swimming, making him dizzy and his movements erratic – he couldn't tell if his legs were going to collapse underneath him, or carry him on a two mile sprint.

His skin vibrated and the air in the bar felt electric.

He did his best to stabilize his hands as customers ordered drinks, but it was nearly impossible for him to concentrate properly, and it was all due to one of the damn Winchester brothers, who was currently sitting at a booth having an animated conversation. Well, Sam was the one doing most of the talking, Dean simply sat there and listened, occasionally nodding.

And Castiel _would_ know what Dean was doing. He had been stealing quick glances towards the man all evening, trying to make eye contact, trying to find some reassurance that what he did was alright, that Dean wasn't angry . . . .

Castiel fell out of his reverie when a slap on the back and a snarky voice with a light British accent spoke up,

"If you don't mind too terribly much, can I talk to you for a minute? Anna can cover for you, won't take long."

Giving one last look to Dean, only to find him with his eyes still on Sam, as they had been all night, Castiel turned a suspicious glance at the man talking to him.

"What do you want, Balthazar?"

A knowing smirk crossed his face, "Oh, I think we need to have a few words. No harm, just want to get some questions answered!"

Castiel nodded to him, giving an apologetic smile to Anna, as he followed Balthazar into the kitchen.

As soon as they entered through the swinging doors, Balthazar spun around with an excited gleam in his eyes and asked teasingly, "Tell me, who was the little piece of work I saw you on top of not five minutes ago? We're dying to know!"

Castiel felt himself color slightly, "We? Who's we?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Anna, me, and a few of the other waitresses may have had a bet on how long you would stay celibate, and let me tell you, I think I'm on track to win if that display meant anything! So who is he? Your boyfriend?"

Castiel sputtered, feeling slightly offended, "You have a _bet_ about my romantic life? That is wholly inappropriate!"

Another eye roll, "It's all in good fun, but you're avoiding the question!"

Castiel sighed, "I hate to let you down, but no. Dean is not my boyfriend. We are not together. I was only, um, helping him. Temporarily."

Balthazar's face fell, "But you two were practically having sex in the middle of the bar!"

Castiel felt his face heat up – positive that he was blushing. He wasn't usually into exhibitionism, but Dean had needed him, that was the only reason he did what he did. It had to be the only reason, it was not his place to have any other reason for writhing on top of Dean's lap without his permission.

"I was helping Dean out of an unwanted situation. Nothing more."

Balthazar's eyes crinkled as he broke out into a secretive smile, "Oh. It's one of _those_ things isn't it?"

Startled, Castiel looked at his friend, "What do you mean?"

The same small smile grew, "I think you'll find out what I mean. Anyways, you'd better go make sure Anna is handling herself out there. Saturday nights are our busiest!"

Balthazar left Castiel standing in the kitchen, feeling more confused than before.

It had been an impulse decision really. If any part of Castiel's rational brain were involved it would have told him that Dean could handle himself with the woman, and that he wouldn't appreciate Castiel's assistance.

But the look on Dean's face was one of panic – something he didn't see often in the man – and that look, plus Castiel's penchant for eavesdropping, put him in the perfect position to help Dean get rid of his unwanted visitor. It was supposed to be a simple play at pretend, just enough to give Dean a quick out. The problem was, when Castiel got close to the man, he lost control.

What he meant to be an awkward hug from behind turned into Castiel running his hands gripping Dean's strong shoulders and moving down his chest. The man really had a nice torso – all angle and rough planes with strong muscles – a body that begged to be touched.

And when Castiel had lowered his head, what was supposed to be a simple whisper turned into catching the scent of Dean and feeling the loss of his sanity. The man smelled like bottled sex, all car grease and some strange cologne that had to be new – Castiel would have known if Dean always smelled like _that_.

Castiel's body moved without his permission and next thing he knew, he was in Dean's lap with his hands on those strong arms and his tongue pushing against Dean's. It was honestly not his intention, but what was he supposed to do? Dean, with his unwavering sense of duty and his persistent sacrifices for is brother sent Castiel off the edge. Of course, the fact that the man kissed like a pornstar and probably fucked like one too was helpful.

Castiel could feel his heartbeat increase as he thought about kissing Dean – _his rough mouth breaking the kiss, panting into his neck, Castiel was practically read to scream 'fuck me' into his ear – _but he forced his mind back to reality, shaking awake from fantasies for about the eighth time that night. He promised himself he would focus on his work for the rest of the night.

He reentered the bar to relieved Anna from the hectic crowd.

It still made him shiver when he glanced at Sam's table to see Dean sitting there, but it was something he had to put out of his mind for the time being.

Unfortunately, that was much easier to say than it was to carry out. Despite repeatedly telling himself that he would stop attempting to catch Dean's eye, Castiel caught himself glancing over more often than not, and every time the renewed sight of the man sent a jolt through his spine.

After several hours, the constant stream of customers began to dwindle, and Anna left to help wait tables, leaving Castiel and Balthazar alone at the bar.

It was not until much later that Sam stood up to stretch and smiled. Castiel could hear him from across the room, "Dean, I think I need to get going. I'll see you in a bit."

With a wave over his shoulder goodbye, Sam caught Castiel's eye and smirked, before leaving.

Confused, Castiel looked over to Dean, who was still sitting at the table, large hands playing with the beer bottle he was holding.

What would he do? Was he going to stay here until closing again? If he came to sit at the bar Castiel was fairly sure he would have a legitimate heart attack.

Before he had time to panic, Dean was standing up, turning slightly to leave a tip on the table, and walking towards the door. Seeing him standing was just as bad for Castiel as seeing him sitting, he was tall – taller than him – and his strong profile made Castiel want to touch him again, and not let anyone else see him the way he had – panting and at his mercy.

Eyes following him, trying to get his attention, Dean ignored him as he walked away. But as he put a hand on the doorknob, Dean looked over his shoulder at Castiel.

The effect was instant.

Suddenly Castiel couldn't breath – could do nothing more than stare – and remember what it was like to have the man pressing against his body. It abruptly felt far too hot under the lights of the restaurant. The memory was making his head swim and he swore he could feel his skin twitching.

Then Dean turned quickly and left, and Castiel found himself able to breath again.

He was shaking slightly, and the heat was getting to be stifling – since when did he get so flushed from a man simply looking at him? Glancing around quickly, he spotted Balthazar.

"Will you to cover for me? I need some air."

Balthazar looked concerned for a moment, observing Castiel's red face and erratic movements, "Sure thing, take you time."

Castiel nodded in thanks and hurried through the kitchen, out the back door.

The cool air hit him like a wall, making his mind clear and feel more collected. It was a strange impulse really; normally he could control his emotions enough to not show any signs of what he was thinking. But tonight was different.

Castiel rested the back of his head against the wall, running a hand over his face as he attempted to gain control over his body, the cool air running smooth across his overheated skin.

Deciding he needed to return before someone started looking for him, Castiel pushed his body off the wall.

There was only a short warning – a deep, gruff voiced, "Cas." – before he felt two hands on his torso pushing him back against the wall roughly.

His shoulder blades hit hard and his head snapped back with a force that would have been painful if not for the hand suddenly behind his head to cushion the impact.

Opening his eyes, Castiel took in the sight of a close, and very _angry_, Dean Winchester.

"Cas, Cas, Cas," Dean chanted his name, one hand on his chest pinning him to the wall, one hand on the back of his head, pulling on Castiel's hair so that he was forced to look at Dean.

"Were you planning on telling me what _the actual fuck_ was up with that show you put on back there?!"

His gleaming green eyes were electric in their anger – it was mesmerizing.

Somehow finding his voice with the wind slightly knocked out of him, he stuttered, "D-Dean, I don't know what you're –"

Dean pushed a leg between Castiel's and pressed sideways, pinning his torso and immobilizing him completely.

"Don't you play dumb with me!" his voice dropped lower, "I'm talking about that number you pulled in front of Lisa."

Oh God, Dean was angry – he was livid – he could practically feel it rolling off him. Castiel had definitely crossed a line, and now Dean would never forgive him, especially considering the position they were currently in. Dean was going to hit him – or worse, never speak to him again. Both seemed possible, and the thought made Castiel feel sick to his stomach.

"Dean, I just thought that you maybe needed someone to –"

Dean interrupted again by pressing harder against his body and leaning closer to his face, still looking pissed.

"Who gave you the fucking right?" When Castiel didn't respond Dean grabbed harder at his hair, pulling more of it into a fist and yanking it back, forcing a gasp out of Castiel. "You give me just a bit of something like that and then you walk away like it didn't mean anything?! Honestly, your boyfriend was right there, what did he think of you?"

_Wait. What?_

Castiel's head was reeling – did Dean really just say what he thought he said? Even if he did, Castiel was getting tired of the constant confusion he experienced whenever Dean was around, and he felt his own anger rising.

Putting two hands on Dean's chest, Castiel pushed back and practically threw Dean off.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. What do you mean my boyfriend? I'm fucking single! You know that!"

Dean, with eyes still blazing, softened slightly, "What?!" He paused and frowned,

"Wait, that blonde douche at the bar isn't . . . "

What the hell was he talking about?

"Who? Balthazar?! No! Of course not!"

He paused again, his fist clenching and unclenching. Castiel was ready for Dean to hit him, to tell him off, to be told to leave – anything, really.

Anything but the silence that was currently stretching out between them. He was about to say as much when Dean looked up sharply.

Without any more hesitation, Dean pulled close, grabbed him on either side of his head, and crashed their mouths together.

He backed Castiel against the wall again, and pinned his body against him.

Dean bit Castiel's bottom lip, eliciting a sharp gasp, allowing Dean to slip his tongue into Castiel's mouth. He was dominating the kiss, not giving any time to move or react.

It was hot and wet and took his breath away. Dean's lips were wet and smooth – exactly as they were last time – but now Castiel was the one taken by surprise. Too surprised to act, Dean broke the sudden kiss to glare at the bartender.

His voice low, "I'm still angry as hell with you. Fucking leaving me there, ready to tear you apart, and you walk away from me!"

Castiel's eyes widen as he realized what Dean meant. However now was not the time to question anything, and he suddenly felt impatient. Castiel threw himself at Dean's body, locking lips once again and running his hands along Dean's torso, the way he always wanted to.

Dean grabbed at his waist and pulled his hips close, pushing a leg in between Castiel's again, this time with a much different intent. Their tongues pushed against each other and Dean bit down hard on his upper lip and dragged it through his teeth slowly, breath hot compared to the cold air. The slow scrape of his teeth made him shiver.

Castiel felt his body respond instantly – spending all night fantasizing about the man and here he was ready and willing made for a potent aphrodisiac. Dean must have felt his body's response and began kissing down Castiel's neck, chuckling.

"God Cas, were you this hard all night?" Castiel let out a breathless groan as Dean's teeth ran along his neck and Dean's hands snaked underneath his shirt, "Were you standing there in front of all those people hiding a hard on, and not even telling me?"

His hips began thrusting lightly and Castiel felt his eyes roll back in his head with how it felt.

"I could've helped you know. It was very, ah, _inconsiderate_ of you." Castiel's breath hitched as Dean's nails scraped lightly across his back and he pushed up with his hips.

"_Dean_," A loud bang made Castiel jump, and it diffused the tension between the two. He quickly remembered that, technically, he was still working.

"Dean, I – I need to go back."

He tried pushing the man away, as much as he didn't want to, this had to wait. But Dean was not letting him, instead wrapping him in his arms more tightly and biting down lightly on Castiel's pulse point.

"No fucking way I'm letting you go. I've been waiting too long for this."

Castiel groaned at his words, wanting more than anything to fuck this man right then and there, not matter who saw them.

"Let me at least get Anna to cover for me. It'll take a second."

He yelped as Dean gave one last scrap of nails across his abdomen and growled, "Fine."

Castiel was suddenly left without the warm presence of Dean, and it was freezing. He stumbled back into the kitchen and practically knocked down Balthazar who was carrying a tray filled with empty glasses.

"Woah Cassie! Watch it! What's the matter with you?"

"Balthazar, I need . . ." Castiel was panting and paused to catch his breath, "I need to leave,"

His friend took one look at Castiel's messy hair, dilated pupils, red lips, and guessed what was happening. He grinned, "No worries, Anna and I can take the shift, shouldn't be too bad."

A sigh of relief and a quick "thank you" was all Castiel could bring himself to say before he nearly ran out of the building, tripping over his own legs, a quiet "I expect an explanation!" following him out.

Dean was waiting in the back, the Impala's engine revving and carrying a driver who looked more than slightly put out.

"Get in. Now." Dean's deep drawl was commanding and it made a sharp fluttering occur in Castiel's stomach. Quickly getting into the passenger's seat, Dean wasted no time in putting his baby in gear and flying way over the speed limit through the late night traffic.

* * *

It wasn't a long drive to Dean's house, and Dean spent the majority of the ride planning exactly how long it would take, trying to shorten the ride, but Cas seemed to have other plans.

He slid over in his seat to Dean, put a hand on the man's thigh, and began placing small kisses along his neck and massaging his palm into his leg.

"Cas, fuck!" he growled, it was teasing and distracting. Maybe he began driving a bit faster, but Dean remained focused – he would _not_ crash his baby. But Cas continued rubbing his hand along Dean's leg, moving closer to his dick with every pass. Dean's breathing became erratic and labored – the rising tent in his pants made Cas grin against his neck. He kissed down his throat and breathed his name in to his ear and Dean jerked, swerving in his lane.

"Jesus, Cas! You keep that up we won't make it there in one piece."

Cas only gave a noncommittal "hmmm" before continuing with his ministrations. Fucking Cas and his unexplainable knowledge of exactly how to push Dean's buttons so that he was hard as hell with zero effort.

"Goddamn it I will pull this car over and fuck you right now if you don't stop!"

"I would not be adverse to such a thing."

Dean shivered, but there was no time for that, because they had finally arrived at Dean's house.

Cas moved away, opened the door to the passenger's seat, and stepped outside. Dean, moving much more quickly, was at Cas' side as he got out, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pushed their mouths together. Dean's tongue ran across his lips and this time Cas let him in willingly. There was nothing hesitant or unsure about this, just Cas and his unbearably sweet lips. Dean decided he wouldn't give him any time to breath, instead sucking on his tongue and stealing every ounce of air Cas possessed, leaving him panting into his mouth.

His hands roamed across Cas' back, eventually landing on the waistband of his jeans. Dean's fingertips slipped underneath to grip his ass and pull him tightly against his own hard erection. The press of Cas' warm body and slowly circulating hips was driving Dean insane. As he began to see stars, he broke away from the kiss to take large gulps of air.

Dean looked at his gleaming eyes and leaned close, "Don't you dare do that to me again."

Breathing hard, Cas could only nod furiously.

Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him frantically to the door of his house. As he pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock, Cas pressed against him from behind, plastering his entire body across Dean's back, trying to reach for the key.

"Need some help?"

In a lightning fast motion, Dean turned the key, threw Cas inside, shut the door, and slammed him against it, his hands grabbing Cas' to press them against the unforgiving door.

The press of the man's lips against his, biting and sucking so that they felt raw and slick, quickly remedied any discomfort.

Strong, calloused hands tore at the buttons on Castiel's shirt, not caring if it ripped, and exposed his chest to Dean. Hands running up his sides made Cas shiver – blunt nails trailed over his arms and ghosted over his nipples making him groan and press for more.

Dean moved quickly, giving little bites and kisses at the juncture of his neck and shoulders, nipping at his clavicle. It made Cas squirm in his arms, and it made his already pressing erection grow – and Dean grinned at his easy response, "Just so eager aren't you?"

"Yes," Cas murmured, "Dean, _please_,"

Dean made quick work of Cas' shirt, removing the goddamn thing that was always in his way, and he yanked off his belt and jeans until he had a nearly naked Cas standing in front of him panting, with lust blown eyes.

He had never seen this part of Cas before – the raw, out of control side – and Dean took his time to admire the man. His strong, lithe shoulders and his tapered torso that led to some of the sexiest damn hipbones Dean had ever seen.

Still breathing hard, Castiel growled, "Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night?"

Dean smirked and pulled Castiel in for another deep kiss that left them both gasping for air. He led them towards his room, shedding clothes along the way until they were down to their boxers. Thankfully, Sam didn't seem to be anywhere in the house.

Dean slammed the door to his room and turned towards Cas, but before he could say anything, Cas grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him down on the bed. Climbing on top of him, Cas began grinding down on Dean, eyes fluttering shut every time Dean's breath hitched with the contact.

"Dammit, Cas!" a low, guttural moan fell from him as Cas' hand brushed his nipples and pressed down more urgently.

"Been waiting so long. No idea, ugh. Fuck!"

Not able to stand having even the small bit of clothing between them, Dean grabbed both of their boxers and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

"Smooth." Castiel chuckled, but the grin quickly vanished from his face, replaced with wild eyes and a parted mouth as he felt Dean's hard cock pressing against his. It was wonderful, feeling himself against Cas, rubbing themselves off on each other – dirty and erratic, but hot as hell.

"Fuck," Dean pulled down on Castiel's ass to get more pressure that was turning his mind to liquid, and Castiel must've been lost in the sensation too because he jerked in surprise when he felt Dean's finger press against his entrance. As soon as he realized what Dean was doing, Castiel pushed back, urging Dean on, to give him _more_.

Castiel thrust down on Dean's finger, and Dean paused reach over beside the bed for the bottle of lube. He managed to get some onto his fingers and slide it around to warm it up. Cas continued to rock down on Dean – he was fairly sure he was going to come way too soon if Cas kept it up – and he returned, pushing more fingers up into him, loving the way every push made Cas throw his head back and moan.

Unable to take the maddening movement of Cas above him, Dean decided to take control before he was pushed off the edge. He wrapped an arm around Cas and twisted so that their positions were reversed. Castiel, surprised by his sudden movement, could only grab onto Dean's shoulders as he brutally fucked him with his fingers.

With the new position, Dean had better access to Cas' body and he began kissing across his neck, biting a spot directly below his ear. His actions had Cas moaning his name – Dean watched Cas slowly fall apart underneath him, and it had to be one of the hottest damn things Dean had seen in a while.

"Fucking hell Cas, you're ridiculous, you know that?" Cas arched his back and slotted their mouths again, the intensity of the kiss disrupting Dean's rhythm, and that was it. If he didn't get inside Cas soon he was going to implode. The lust inside him was consuming, making his head swim. His painfully hard cock was rutting up against Cas' throbbing body, and Dean quickly slipped a condom on in one practiced motion.

A hand running down Cas' face, the other gripping his dick and lining himself up, Dean whispered, "Cas, look at me."

The man's eyes shot open, black except for a sliver of blue along the edges, his chest heaving and his hair in disarray. He fixed Dean with an intense stare as he lowered his hips into him.

Dean moved torturously slow, he didn't want to push Cas, so he set a slow pace, feeling every small movement of the man's body. Cas was tight and hot, almost unbearably so. Dean felt like he was going to pass out with the sensation, and it sent shots of pleasure up his back and down his neck. When he was _finally _buried deep inside him, Dean managed to remain still for a bit longer to give Cas time to adjust.

Seconds past and all Dean could hear in the quiet room was the sound of their labored breathing. He caught Cas' mouth in a wet kiss that felt like it echoed across the walls, and a groan escaped from Castiel's mouth as Dean refused to move.

Panting into his mouth, Cas practically snarled. "Dean! MOVE!" he yelled, his voice hoarse and angry.

Chuckling, Dean felt himself giving in to the mounting pressure and began moving in small circles. He was going to make Cas pay for what he had done earlier that evening - leaving Dean with ragged breath and walking away so damn casually - this was payback. Searching for the right angle, Dean's slow thrusts suddenly made Cas take a sharp intake of breath and shudder out a choked "Dean!"

And he knew he found that one spot that would make Cas fall apart completely. Deciding to continue the slow pace, Dean pulled almost all of the way out before slowly inching back in, making sure to push against his prostate. The slow, teasing rhythm and the methodical movements made Cas scream and grab Dean closer to him, "If you don't fucking move right now!" Dean smiled again, a wicked grin that set Castiel's face into a determined snarl.

Cas looked defiant, a strange expression for someone who seemed so raw at the moment, "Fine, you want it like that?"

Dean was about to ask what he meant, when suddenly Castiel sat up on his elbows and began to twist. The effect on Dean was intense. It sent sharp jolts of fire down his legs, and the new angle made him see stars behind his eyelids. The sudden move, however, had somehow reversed their positions, with Castiel on top, riding Dean.

His eyes grew wide, "How the hell?"

But Cas didn't give him time to wonder how in the hell he had pulled off a move like that because Cas bent down and started sucking bruises into Dean neck, making Dean squirm and writhe underneath him.

Cas then began to swivel his hips in a way that almost made Dean black out, the pace was fast and jerking, leaving little time for Dean to breath, or even catch hold of the whirlwind that was the man riding his lap.

When he gripped Cas' hips tightly in an attempt to slow him down – at this pace he was going to lose his mind – Cas grabbed his wrists and pushed them into the bed, preventing him from gaining the upper hand, and making him at the mercy of whatever Cas wished to do. It was unbelievably hot how strong the guy was, if Dean had known he would be this assertive and fucking intense in bed he would've chased after him much sooner – boyfriend or not.

Unable to stop Castiel's movements, Dean arched his back as Cas' hard dick began to leak precum on his chest and his eyes fluttered as Cas' hips made a motion that should have been fucking illegal.

Hyperventilating now, Dean could only lie there as Cas rode him, those fucking hips had to be good for something and damn were they good a this. Buried almost entirely in Cas, Dean could feel him clenching around his dick, sending waves of heat through his body and making his head reel. It was insane what this was doing to him. Dean was no innocent when it came to fucking, but something about Cas set him on edge and made every sense of his sharper and more intense.

"D–Dean," Cas panted, body leaning over Dean's chest to grab a nipple in between his teeth, eliciting a throaty moan from Dean, "I – I'm going to,"

Dean arched up again and push forward in tandem with Cas' movements, pushing deeper, harder, into the man, slamming into his prostate and relishing the way Cas lifted off his and hammered down with him, "I got you Cas," he breathed.

Cas stared at Dean with parted lips and eyes that raked over his body like a physical touch. He maintained eye contact as Cas came with a loud shout that tapered off at the end, his voice hoarse from shouting.

The heat around Dean's cock was too much, and the increased pressure combined with the intense, lust-filled gaze as Cas came pushed Dean over the edge as well. He threw his head back, striking the mattress hard as he gave one last thrust into Cas before his orgasm fell over him in a wave of pleasure, his vision went white and his mind blanked. Without a doubt the real Cas was better than anything his mind, or hand, could have imagined.

Unable to breath, Dean didn't care as he pulled Cas in for another kiss as they were still simmering. This one kiss was slower, more deliberate, and more claiming. Cas collapsed on top of him with heavy breaths as Dean pulled out and, with a grunt, lifted Castiel off him. He tied the condom, tossed it in the general direction of the trashcan, and reached over to grab some tissues to clean them up.

Sighing contently, Dean pulled Cas close to wrap his arms around the man.

He felt sleep coming to him and a satiated weariness settled over his limbs.

It was some time, laying there, exchanging lazy kisses when Castiel spoke up, "You're telling me we could have been doing that all week?"

Dean let out a huff of laughter, "I suppose." He shifted slightly so he could look at Cas' face, "God, the first time I saw you, I had no idea you'd be _that_ fucking intense."

Castiel blushed, his face turning a deep red that made Dean laugh and kiss him again. Their tongues slid against each other, exploring, tasting.

"Do you have to be at work tomorrow?" Dean asked, hoping that he would get Cas to stay with him for a whole day.

"Yes, I do," Dean's heart sank, "But I don't have to go in until the evening, so I'm free for the day."

A slow grin formed on Dean's face, "Good. I don't want you running off too quickly."

Cas smiled and moved closer to Dean, pulling him in further with his arms.

"I'd never run off."

Dean considered that statement as he reached to hit the light switch off and the room was covered in darkness.

_You know I think I can make this work._


End file.
